Thanks again for all these great comments. I've got most the entire story planned out by this point, so let's keep on truckin! I've been delving into research tips for this story (which means I have to search for dating tips…), so I'm still open to take requests from you guys. (please, it's super helpful)
I don't own Hey Arnold. Sadly. Though David is my own creation.
a/n: So so so so sorry you guys about all the horrendous spelling errors in this chapter. I posted it at close to two in the morning, so my brain didn't catch all (or should I say any of) my mistakes. So a few minor edits have been added since the initial posting.
"And then- and then," Helga laughed, trying to catch her breath as she continued her story. "The guys just completely- oh, hold on," she muttered, putting her coffee down as she rummaged down in her bag to find the phone that was blaring a song I wasn't familiar with. I sipped on my own frozen drink as she pressed a button. "Hello?"
I waited patiently, trying not to eavesdrop as I peered around the small little coffee shop. We'd decided to stop by after school instead of going straight to our lessons. It was a habit we'd fallen into over the last few lessons over the past two weeks. Since our physical interaction lesson, the lessons had taken on a more formal tone. It had been my idea to suggest doing something to unwind beforehand, which was fun and seemed to help Helga relax a bit. I'd since learned lessons on gentlemanly manners (which I already knew), What things I am supposed to share about myself, and a random lecture disguised as a lesson about not checking other girls out when you're with said object of your affection. I hadn't really thought through the fact Helga might not like that I shared how particularly attractive the girl who was on the TV was. Oops.
"Oh, snap! I can't believe I forgot, I've just been a bit buzzed these past few days. I'll see you in like, thirty minutes okay? Shoot shoot shoot," Helga was moaning as I turned my attention back to her. She tossed the phone down in her bag.
"Something wrong?" I asked curiously, watching as she jumped down from her stool, slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulders. She jerked up a metal napkin holder, checking her reflection before starting to rub at a small smudge near her eye.
"I totally forgot we scheduled an extra dance practice today. David called to remind me. Luckily he called me with enough time to spare to get there. He keeps me on track when I forget. Um, we'll do two lessons next time or we'll do one this weekend. Ugh, I'm so behind this week!" She picked her coffee, power walking toward the door.
"You need a ride or something?" I asked, hopping down from my own stool and following after her. I put on an extra burst of speed to make sure I could hold open the door for her.
"It's fine, I'll take the bus. I've got to run home and get my slippers."
"Come on, the bus is going to stop closest to the boarding house first. I'll drive you to your house from there, and then you won't have to worry about all the extra stops and all the bus takes." Plus, I wanted to talk a bit more. The conversation had cut off rather abruptly.
"Well hurry then!" she called, dashing toward the bus that had just stopped at the corner. I dashed behind her, flashing my bus pass before being herded into the center of the bus by Helga.
"Rushing to a seat won't make the bus move faster," I reminded her a bit smartly. She ignored me, tapping her foot impatiently as she peered out the window. I rolled my eyes, already knowing I wouldn't get much out of her until she was sure she was going to get there on time. When the bus pulled up at the stop near home, she burst from the seat like a bolt of lightning. I stumbled to keep up with her pace, rounding the corner to find her already climbing into the cab of the track. I frowned, wrestling my own door open. I pulled my keys from my pocket, flipping to the right one and jamming it in. The ride went in relative silence aside from her various nervous groans. I left the truck running at the curb as she dashed inside her own home. She returned a minute or two later, her bag on her shoulder and her slippers on the other. When she jumped back in the cab, her shoes swung out and knocked me on the arm.
"Dang, why are your slippers so hard?" I asked, not taking time to rub it or anything, instead just going forward. I noticed a slight bit of chalky substance on my arm as well.
"Wooden toes," she explained as she wrestled off her heavy combat boots. "Do you have a blanket or anything in here?" she huffed.
"Check behind the seat," I suggested, scooting to the side as she leaned around the seat. After a few clanking moments, she pulled out the dusty woolen blanket that I'd shoved back there for that camping trip Gerald and I had taken a few months back. After a moment of eyeing it with distaste, she sighed.
"I'm going to change. Don't look."
Okay, so the very instant a girl tells you she's about to change, the first instinct is automatically to look. "Wasn't gonna," I managed, gripping the steering wheel harder. "Why didn't you change at home?"
"Saves time. I'll get there sooner. Don't mind me," she mumbled, pulling a pair of tights and a leotard from her bag. She tossed the blanket over her, turning her back to me in the seat. To say I didn't glance over a few times would be a lie, but I only caught glimpses of a bit of her arm shooting out from the side to toss her baggy shirt away. I turned the radio up, trying to let the blaring music distract my mind. A few moments later, her head popped out from the blanket. She searched in her bag once more, pulling out a comb and going to work on her now loose and tangled hair. I figured this seemed like a whole lot of work just to go dance. But I kept my mouth shut as she fought out the knots, eventually getting the blond mass into a surprisingly smooth bun.
"Is it really necessary to do all of that? You couldn't do it there?"
"Ms. Anissa likes us to be in our dance attire when we get there. She gets an attitude if she has to wait on you. Since it's just David and I today, I wouldn't be able to escape it," she explained, packing her other clothing articles into the bag.
"Wait, this rehearsal is just for you two?" I blurted, confused.
"Yeah. We're going to work on choreographing the ballroom dance. Rather than make all the other dancers wait around while she works with us, she just scheduled a few extra rehearsals for doing the ballroom scenes that are just us."
"Oh," I muttered, keeping my mouth shut the rest of the drive. Helga talked, not seeming to notice my distaste as she tied on her slippers. When we finally arrived, she pointed to the front.
"Thanks for the drive. Just drop me off at the front, if you want," she instructed.
"Can I stay and watch?" I tried to ask casually. "I mean, that way you can just ride back with me. That way I can justify my gas usage. You know," I shrugged, daring a glance over.
"Oh, um, I'm not sure. Usually we aren't supposed to, but I'm sure if I tell her you're my ride, she'll understand. It's not dress rehearsal or anything," she mused, seeming to think it over. With a shrug, she stepped out from the truck, leaving her bag in the floorboard. I turned off the truck, stepping down as well. Helga took a moment to adjust her leotard, her cheeks a bit red. "Come on then."
I nodded, following behind her. It was still a shock to see her in a form fitting leotard and neat hair, though the abundance of pink had a familiar air about it. The lobby area was empty when we entered, but she directed me to a door to the right. She pushed it open, and the first sight for me to behold was a man in tights. Whenever you mention a guy wearing tights, most guys' minds automatically flickers to someone that looks extremely feminine and funny. It's supposed to be something to laugh at. Yet we have mister prince charming himself in tights and slippers that didn't even dock his masculinity down a single notch. The corners of my lips twitched. How was that even fair? How was a guy allowed to look that good, and in tights nonetheless.
"'Ello Helga!" called a woman messing with a tape player in the corner. Her brow furrowed as she saw me. "Who is this?"
"This is my friend Arnold. He's my ride, and I was wondering if was alright for him to sit through the practice? It's about a thirty minute drive, so I'd hate to make him waste gas like that. He doesn't know the town, so I was hoping it would be alright…"
The woman's face brightened. "Ah, yes, that'll be alright. Young man, take a seat in one of the seats over there. I just ask if you have a cell phone to turn it to the silent mode. You may watch, but I do not tolerate interruptions."
I nodded. I could understand why Helga wouldn't want to get on her bad side. I made my way over to the seat, plopping down. David was stretching at a bar beside me, and as much as I wanted to look away, I couldn't. How was he even able to stretch his leg like that?
"I've been doing this since I was seven," he explained, as if he could read my mind. He moved back, doing what appeared to be a toe touch, even though he was placing his palms flat against the floor.
"Oh wow," was all I could manage. I had no idea what to say to him. "Mom force you?"
"Actually no, but you would think," he laughed. "My grandma was a dancer. She got to do touring shows, and even worked in Vegas. She had all these costumes and pictures of her performances. She even had a couple of videos. I used to watch them all the time. There were these guys that could do all these awesome tap dance routines and even ballet. I just felt that was what I wanted to do. I do tap as well. Gene Kelly is my idol. " He shrugged, straightening up and brushing his bangs back from his face.
This guy just did everything it seemed. "Well, seems like you are just oozing with talent," I said lamely. He laughed in reply, shaking his head.
"Not really. I tried football in middle school after being teased by a bunch of the boys. Sucked at it. I could dodge and all, but butterfingers." He wiggled his fingers to prove a point. I tried to keep in my groan. He had to be nice, didn't he? I didn't want to like him, but there didn't seem to be a jerkish bone in his body.
"Come on Charming, stop chatting and get to dancing!" Helga called from the center of the room. David laughed, making his way over as well.
"Now, let's begin," Mrs. Anissa said, clapping her hands sharply. I wish I was able to explain the process of a dance rehearsal, but it's hard for someone who has no idea what any of the terms mean. All I know is I sat for two hours watching Helga and David spin around the room and do a series of dance movements I had never thought even possibly. But then again, I was no expert in ballet at all. I watched David as Charming certainly live up to his character, his hand resting on her hip as he guided her around the room. I hadn't realized my hands had clenched into tight fists, so when Mrs. Anissa called an end to the rehearsal, I was massaging the numbness from my joints and knuckles. So maybe I was a bit jealous about how easily he was able to dance like that with her, but I figured if I had taken dance for ten years, I'd be almost as good.
"I said you ready to go?"
I jerked my head up to see Helga raising her eyebrows. "Huh?"
"Ready to go?"
"Oh yeah, sure," I replied, pushing myself up from the chair. I was anxious to get out of this studio.
"You guys want to get some food? I can get us a discount," David asked, walking over to where we were. "My parent's own a restaurant," David clarified for me; I was obviously the only one in the room who wasn't privy to all these dancer secrets.
"I have homework to get to, and it's a long drive," I declined carefully, trying to not make it obvious how much I was disliking the idea. "And I'm giving Helga a ride, so-"
"I can take the bus, no big deal. I'm totally starved. Your dad makes a mean hamburger. "
"But you-" I started to protest, only to be shut down once more.
"I can get my bag from your truck later. I don't know what time I'll get back, so if you'll just stash the key somewhere for me, I'll get it."
I wanted to tell her she could just ride with me and there wouldn't be any complication, but I sighed instead. "Um, sure. I'll just leave it under the back mat. I'll probably be up when you get there, so just text me or something," I muttered.
"Sure you don't want to get anything to eat with us? You wouldn't need to stay too long," David suggested again.
"It's fine, really. Thank for the invite. I've got stuff to do," I assured him. Not really in the mood to be the third wheel here.
"Come on bun head, I've got my extra helmet with me," David joked, pushing open the door, holding it for Helga.
"Hey, thanks for the ride," Helga said, waving to me as she walked out. "I'll bring you something back. I mean, it'll be cold, but I'll bring something anyway."
"Sure thing," I nodded, waving at the door as it closed. This was not what I had been expecting for today. If I'd gotten anything from today, I think I had a bit more insight on the last lesson we'd had. I groaned, pushing open the door. This was going to be a long, lonely drive back home.
I wrestled the door to my truck open, surprised to feel a tap on my back. I turned to find Helga standing behind me, and I smiled widely. Maybe she had changed her mind.
"I need to get my messenger bag," she explained, jumping up to reach across the seat to snag the strap. "I'll get my duffel later. You positive you can't stay and eat with us?"
"I'm fine, really. Grandma is probably already expecting me for supper. You guys have fun," I said lamely.
"Sorry about making you wait for nothing. I didn't think about it when I agreed to get something to eat," she suddenly realized, her face falling. "I'll go tell him I can't."
"No, don't worry about it. Honestly. No big deal." As tempting as it was, I figured as long as she was happy and out of the house, I could be fine with it.
"Thanks for understanding. Later!" she bounded off around the truck, and I watched as she jumped on the bike behind him. He adjusted her chin strap for her, and she was soon latched tightly around his waist as the pulled out of the parking lot. I was already sick of this guy, and he hadn't done a thing to me. I just couldn't put my finger on it.
"Yah, it's 1 through 30, odd numbers," I confirmed to Lila on the phone. I was trying to wash dishes at the same time, so occasionally parts of our conversation were being drowned out due to the speaker.
"These problems are just ever so hard," she whined a bit pitifully. "I'm just ever so certain I'm doing these wrong."
"A good bit of them are just using the quadratic formula," I explained, pulling the stopper from the sink.
"I'm ever so certain I'm just not getting it. Oh Arnold, I'd be ever so grateful if you'd be willing to come help me out."
"Um, well, I'm sort of expecting Helga to drop by. She's left some stuff in my truck and when she finishes eating with David-"
"Oh, isn't he that ever so cute boyfriend of hers from out of town?...Arnold, are you there?"
"What? Oh, uh, yeah. What do you mean boyfriend?" I choked out, not caring if my hands where sudsy as I put the receiver to my ear now.
"Oh yes, she has a few pictures of him on her binder. Rhonda asked her who he was and things like that. Helga got ever so flustered, and Rhonda says they must be dating or she wouldn't have acted so."
"Isn't it possible they're just friends? I mean, how would you know?" I babbled quickly.
"Oh, I'm ever so certain I don't know for sure. But I do know the last time Rhonda had a slumber party, the two were texting all night. I'm ever so certain that would have to mean something."
"Look, um, give me a minute to finish cleaning the kitchen. I'll be over in a few."
I pressed the end button, a tingling sensation running up my spine. He was Helga's boyfriend? She didn't mention anything about it? But would she have? I mean, did she not think I needed to know she had a super fit, handsome dancer boyfriend whose parents owned some stupid restaurant? Maybe that's why she didn't want to get too attached or hang out a lot; she didn't want to interfere with this David time. Like I had any reason to worry about it. It's not like the sudden discovery she may or may not have a boyfriend affected our lessons. Maybe it just made her lessons more accurate, and she was teaching me things he'd done for her. I shut my mind down at that point, darting out the back door.